


it was supposed to be easy

by skyways_are_highways



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula and Katara are fed up with their older brothers' bullshit, Blue Spirit Zuko, Canon-Typical Violence, Detective Noir, M/M, Private Investigator Sokka, Secret Identity, Spider-Man Kiss, Strangers to Lovers, Teen for language, azula was trying to get back at her brother not get him a boyfriend oh NO, but like speedrun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27852782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyways_are_highways/pseuds/skyways_are_highways
Summary: Azula hires Sokka to track down the Blue Spirit.It should be a foolproof plan, except foronething.Azula forgot to account for the inherent homoeroticism of a noir detective.
Relationships: Azula & Sokka (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 262





	1. sokka would actually love to stay out of your family drama, thank you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka is threatened and it becomes clear that not one, single person can catch a break.

Sokka doesn’t see her until he closes the door to his office. There’s a woman at his desk. Not just at his desk, but  _ lounging  _ at it. She’s sunken into the  _ (his!) _ chair, feet propped up against the table. She has a cigarette between her teeth, and Sokka can see another in the ashtray he keeps on his desk.

She’s been here a while, then. Sokka doesn’t smoke, but enough clients had left their cigarette butts on his floor that he thought he might get an ashtray to avoid picking them up. 

Her arm is sitting against her waist, just a hair too far out for it to be natural. She must have a weapon.

“How did you get in here?” Sokka asks because he needs to know if he should replace the locks on his door.

She sits up and blows out some smoke. “I have a case for you.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. Sokka’s dealt with his fair share of smug weirdos, but so far, this lady takes the cake. One hand in her pocket, the other holding up her cigarette, she strides across the room toward him. She’s wearing boots.

“Most people do,” Sokka says, “My office hours are on the door. Come back tomorrow.”

She grins. “I’m afraid that won’t work for me. I won’t take much of your time.”

Sokka sighs inwardly. He knows he should stand his ground, tell her to get out and behave normally like everyone else, but on the other hand, it’s been a long day. He might as well get it over with. “What is it, then?”

“The Blue Spirit,” she says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “I need you to bring him to me, but not like you normally would.”

“I don’t typically kidnap, miss,” Sokka says, “Especially not dangerous vigilantes.” 

“No kidnapping,” she assures, though Sokka’s not sure he believes her, “You need to  _ befriend  _ him. Get him to trust you. Then, lure him into me. I’ll take it from there.”

Sokka narrows his eyes. He doesn’t play dirty, and this whole situation seems particularly messy. “Why?”

She shrugs, “He’s become a problem for my family. I need to take care of it.”

Sokka could think of a few people who want to get the Blue Spirit out of their way. “Why not go to the cops with this?” Sokka asks. 

“The police and my family have a…  _ tense  _ relationship,” she sticks her cigarette back into her mouth, “And I need someone I know will do the job  _ well.” _

Sokka wishes he could say he’s above flattery, but he’s not, so he says, “Who did you say you were again?”

She didn’t say. She grins at him again, almost sinister, reaching a hand out to shake. “Azula Sozin.”

And there it is. He isn’t as surprised as he should be to have the daughter of the most notorious mob boss in the city standing in his office. Sokka shakes her hand, if only to get her pointy, blood red nails out of his face. 

He has to be smart about this. Her last name is a threat on its own. Sokka’s managed to avoid the gangs in the city for a while now, and one wrong move means he’s stuck dealing with them forever. He can’t say no, not outright, and the way Azula looks like a cat who’s caught a mouse tells him she already knows that. 

“And what do I get out of this?” Sokka asks, trying to buy himself some time.

“It pays to have my family owe you,” Azula says, “And I’d owe you.”

It’s never that simple, not ever, so Sokka tells her just that. “It’s never that simple.”

Azula’s grin gets wider, somehow. “No, it’s not. You’re smarter than I thought.” She walks back to his desk, and drops her cigarette into the ashtray, burned down to the end. It’s an expensive brand. Sokka can tell from the labeling and gold text. “I’m eager to work with you, detective,” she says, because they both know Sokka doesn’t have a choice.

He sighs when the door shuts behind her and makes sure her footsteps disappear down the hall. Sokka double checks that the windows are locked and that the door won’t open before he sits down in his chair. It was supposed to be his weekend off, and now he has to deal with this. Maybe he should get a secretary, if it means that people won’t be able to get into his office so easily.

Sokka groans. Now he has to find the Blue Spirit, the most dangerous and elusive vigilante in the entire city. Fantastic. 

___

Zuko knows someone is following him. He’s known for about an hour now, and whoever this guy is, he’s not letting up, so Zuko turns the corner. Sure enough, the man walks right into the alley, like he  _ wants  _ to get killed, and looks around like he’s confused.

Zuko draws his swords and jumps off the roof of the building, and before the other guy can react, he has him pinned up against the wall. Whoever he is, he’s handsome, and doing his very best to appear unfazed, like his neck isn’t surrounded by a sword on two sides and a wall on the other.

“Who hired you?” Zuko growls, because he’s not an idiot, and knows he’s wanted. Wanted specifically by his sister, but that’s not the kind of thing you go around announcing to people, so he keeps it to himself.

___

Sokka’s trying to play it cool, but it’s actually very difficult when he can feel a blade against his neck when he breathes. “You’re feisty,” he says.

The Blue Spirit’s mask covers his face entirely, meaning that Sokka won’t be able to figure out who he is unless he knocks it off. Sokka decides that going straight for it probably won’t work out well in the end. 

“Who hired you?” The Blue Spirit says again, leaning in a little closer.

Sokka reaches a hand up and pulls at his shirt collar. “I might be able to answer if you get the swords off my neck, hmm?” The Blue Spirit doesn’t move for a long, horrible second, and Sokka wonders if he’s going to get murdered by this guy, but then the pressure comes off his neck and it's much easier to breathe. 

The Blue Spirit stays silent, and Sokka wishes he could see his face. He was never very good at reading people. 

“Thank you,” Sokka says, “Believe it or not, people are less likely to answer your questions if you attack them with no warning.”

“You’ve been following me. As far as I’m concerned you were asking for it,” the Blue Spirit says, voice all deep and raspy. “Answer the question.”

Sokka tilts his head a little to the side. The Blue Spirit knows people are after him. Not only are his activities frequently in the papers, but he did  _ not  _ like it when Sokka followed him. “Do you know who hired me?”

“Why should I tell you?”

Sokka sighs. “You know this whole thing won’t work if we keep asking questions back and forth without answering any of them.”

“You didn’t answer mine, first,” the Blue Spirit says, sounding a little bit like a child. 

“Hmm,” Sokka hums thoughtfully, “I’ll make you a deal. We answer each other, but we don’t mention the fact that we’re definitely lying to each other, alright?”

“You  _ just  _ mentioned it,” the Blue Spirit says, though he doesn’t seem to really care all that much. “So I’ll ask you again, who hired you?”

“Nobody,” Sokka replies easily, and he’s not  _ technically  _ lying. He never actually told Azula  _ ‘Hey, I’ll take the job, please don’t kill me.’  _ Any and all agreements were  _ implied. _ There’s a difference. 

The Blue Spirit isn’t impressed, and before he can say anything Sokka waggles his finger in an  _ ‘ah-ah-ah-ah’  _ gesture. 

“We don’t mention it, remember?” 

“Fine,” the Blue Spirit says, “And what question am I answering?”

Sokka grins, “I have a couple, though I don’t think you’ll like most of them. Let’s start off easy. Do  _ you  _ know who hired me?”

The Blue Spirit’s mask is unmoving, and for what would not be the last time Sokka wishes it would. This whole thing would be  _ so  _ much easier if it did. “You said it yourself. Nobody.”

Sokka shrugs, “Alright. Fair enough. Another one: who are you?”

“Lee,” the Blue Spirit says immediately.  _ Everyone  _ is named ‘Lee,’ how stupid does this guy think Sokka is? “Who are you?”

___

Zuko has stopped being able to think straight, for reasons unknown to him. 

The pretty detective  _ (or, at least, Zuko thinks he’s a detective. He’s got one of those long jackets),  _ says something else, and Zuko’s so lost in his own thoughts he doesn’t hear. “Hmm?”

The detective finds that funny, apparently, and smiles in a way that makes Zuko squirm. “My name. I’m Sokka.”

“Sure it is,” Zuko says, not believing it for a second.

The guy who is definitely not named Sokka holds his hands up, “I’m being honest, for once.”

Zuko narrows his eyes, even if Sokka can’t see them. “Hm.”

Sokka grins at him and Zuko suddenly remembers what the hell is going on. He was busy, committing crimes and doing them stealthily, when the man who his irritating baby sister  _ definitely  _ hired decided to interrupt him. 

Right. He was in the middle of something. 

Zuko takes a step back. “Leave me alone, alright?”

Sokka’s grin falls just slightly, and he runs a hand through his hair. “No promises.”

Zuko supposes that’s as good as he’s going to get from Sokka, so he nods and climbs back up to the top of the building without a second thought, leaving the other man alone in the alley. 

___

As soon as the Blue Spirit disappears over the edge of the building, Sokka sighs in relief and rubs one hand at the base of his neck. He knows he wasn’t bleeding, otherwise, that interaction would’ve gone a lot differently, but still. Sharp swords right next to his neck get a guy nervous, that’s not unreasonable, ok?

Sokka’s a bit offended, now that he thinks about it. Things had been going so well, and then the Blue Spirit suddenly switched up on him.

Oh, well. Sokka is nothing if not persistent. 

The Blue Spirit’s identity doesn’t seem necessary to figure out, Sokka thinks. Azula most likely knows who the vigilante is already, and if Sokka continues to push unnecessarily, the Blue Spirit might stop talking to him entirely. But, Sokka is a curious and nosey bastard.

He stretches his arms out and cracks his knuckles. This’ll be fun.

___

The next time they run into each other, Sokka’s finally got a night off, and decides to spend it going back and forth around the city chasing some parkour psycho, instead of doing,  _ oh, anything else? _

Sokka groans as the Blue Spirit disappears again. They’d been going all night. The Blue Spirit hasn’t acknowledged him yet, which Sokka hopes is because he hasn’t been  _ noticed.  _ It’s obvious that he and the vigilante have both independently decided to make this entire situation as difficult for the other as possible. 

The Blue Spirit ducks into an alley that looks suspiciously similar to the last one, and Sokka almost groans again. He’s not stupid. He knows when he’s being lured somewhere.

___

The detective thing had been kind of entertaining at the beginning, Zuko admits, even if it got annoying fast. He is  _ busy, _ alright? Having someone following him up and down the streets doesn’t make sneaking around any easier. 

Sokka follows him into the alley, of course he does, and Zuko drops down from the roof again. He wonders, briefly, if he should maybe shake it up next time.

No. There won’t be a next time. What’s he even  _ talking  _ about?

Even Zuko knows that pulling the swords again is a bit dramatic, so they stay strapped to his back.

“Hi,” says Sokka.

“You need to stop following me,” Zuko says, “My job is difficult enough without the loudest asshole in the entire city following me around.”

“Hmm,” Sokka frowns, looking offended, “What  _ exactly  _ is your job? Aside from running around all creepy with swords? Whatever you do has supremely pissed off my client.”

Zuko blanks at that. The real answer is a bit too much to get into, isn’t it? This guy doesn’t know who Zuko is, it’s not like he can say  _ ‘Well, you see, when I was thirteen, my dad decided to try and kill me. As you can imagine, it only went downhill from there.’  _

That’s just not how you talk to people. 

So, instead of any of that, Zuko says, “Not your problem. Leave me alone.”

“That’s no fun,” Sokka replies a little too quickly, “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re infuriating.”

Sokka grins, and for some reason it makes Zuko feel a little unsteady. “So I’ve been told.”

___

It becomes a routine, after that. Sokka eventually relents and decides that instead of following the Blue Spirit around, he’ll simply just wait out for him in alleys like a creep. 

Every time, the Blue Spirit will sigh and tell Sokka to fuck off. Every time, Sokka will smile and pretend to be hurt. It’s a strange kind of camaraderie, and Sokka isn’t sure how he feels about it. It feels almost illegal, like he’ll turn a corner and someone will be there telling him that what he’s doing is wrong.

He takes very little comfort in knowing that he’s not doing anything wrong. In fact, he’s doing  _ exactly  _ what Azula had asked of him.

Sokka’s tired of waiting, so he takes the fire escape ladder to the roof of whatever apartment building he’s hanging out next to. He’s always liked the stars, even if he can hardly see them this far into the city with all the lights.

The lights in people’s windows are a bit like the stars, he supposes. And all of them have a story attached.

Real stars are just balls of gas floating somewhere far away.

Sokka’s so caught up trying to remember the story behind some constellation that he doesn’t notice when the Blue Spirit appears next to him. If he squints, the mask almost looks exasperated.

“Hello to you as well,” Sokka says, “You don’t have to stand there like a creep, you know. You can say ‘hi.’”

The Blue Spirit sits on the edge of the building next to him. “But waiting out for me in alleys  _ isn’t  _ creepy?”

“I never said that,” Sokka says. He rifles around in his pocket and pulls out a small box. “You want a cigarette?”

“I’m not taking the mask off, Sokka,” the Blue Spirit says without missing a beat. 

Sokka straightens a bit. “Can I have your name, at least? Since we’re  _ apparently  _ using them?”

The Blue Spirit huffs out something that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re right. Sorry.”

The silence stretches out in a way that makes Sokka vaguely uncomfortable, so he scans around for  _ anything  _ to talk about. His eyes land on the box of cigarettes. They’re a cheap brand. “I don’t actually smoke,” he says, because what else is there to talk about? “They’re for work.”

“I don’t, either,” says the Blue Spirit. “How are they for  _ work?” _

“I have a brand to maintain,” Sokka says matter of factly. “Private investigators all have the same sort of feel, you know? Long jackets, smokes, sometimes there’s a weird hat involved but I was  _ not  _ about to buy one of those-”

The Blue Spirit actually starts laughing then, “Ok, yeah. I get it. The cigarettes are for work.”

Something about the laugh makes Sokka jittery, like he’s just dropped off the top of a rollercoaster. The mask doesn’t move, and the expression never changes, but Sokka thinks he could picture the person behind it, if he really tried.

Not guess who they are. Just. Picture them. 

He wonders, very faintly, if the Blue Spirit’s hair is as soft as it looks.

Which is a weird thought. And definitely not one he wants to ponder the implications of, so he rises to his feet very quickly and rattles off some shitty excuse. “My cat needs to be let out.”

“You have a cat?” The Blue Spirit asks.

Sokka’s already on the ladder down when he says, “No.”

The Blue Spirit doesn’t mention it.

___

Azula has other, more important things to be doing. But here she is instead, sitting very dramatically in some random private investigator’s office  _ (His name was Sock? Sicko?),  _ just waiting for him to arrive. 

She won’t be there all night, Azula knows, because even if she doesn’t know this guy’s name, she  _ does  _ know his routine.

He’s been out gallivanting with her brother all night, as he does most nights, now, and usually, he comes back before 11:43 PM. 

The detective is twenty-four minutes and thirty-seven seconds late, and Azula doesn’t like being stood up. She digs her lighter out of her pocket and lights another cigarette. Leaving a mess in the ashtray isn’t very dignified, sure, but it’s  _ right there _ and she was raised to be neat. It’s not like she’s going to leave it all over his desk.

Azula hears footsteps in the hallway and does her very best to seem uninterested. 

The detective opens the door to his office, and Azula is almost disappointed when he doesn’t seem shocked, just mildly irritated. His face is red. 

Azula narrows her eyes. That can’t be good.

“Detective,” she says, “I was hoping I could get an update on your case.”

She’s acutely aware that he never  _ actually agreed to take the case,  _ but if she’s honest, he doesn’t seem all that smart. Azula is hoping he forgot. 

“Call me Sokka,” he says. Azula feels a little relieved. She  _ did  _ want to know his name. “And, unfortunately, I don’t have much news for you.”

_ ‘That’s a lie,’ _ Azula wants to say. He looks nervous. “Of course you don’t,” Azula says easily, “the Blue Spirit is a difficult target to track.”

She doesn’t tell him that she knows he’s already found and become acquainted with the Blue Spirit. She doesn’t tell him that the Blue Spirit is really quite predictable. She doesn’t tell him that the Blue Spirit used to steal her hairbrush when he thought she wouldn’t notice. She  _ definitely  _ doesn’t tell him that the Blue Spirit also helped her with her math homework when she was in school.

There’s a lot she’s not telling this detective, Azula realizes. It’s probably for the best.

Sokka opens his mouth to speak, once, twice, but nothing comes out. 

“Spit it out,” Azula demands.

Sokka widens his eyes briefly as if to say  _ ‘Jeez, alright,’  _ and says, “You know who he is, don’t you?”

Azula thinks back to when she assumed the detective was a bit of an idiot, and wishes, just this once, that she had been wrong. She takes her feet from up off his desk and strides across the room just to blow smoke in his face. 

He seems more annoyed than anything else.

“Does that matter to you, detective?” Azula asks, “I told you to gain his trust and bring him to me. Focus on that, hmm?”

___

Sokka wants to grab her by the shoulders and tell her that she’s really making everything more difficult for herself in the long run by not giving him information she  _ definitely  _ has, but Sokka thinks that would probably get him hit or shot, so he refrains. 

The physical energy he’s exerting in order to stop himself must show on his face, because Azula raises one, perfect eyebrow and says, “Your face has been red for approximately four minutes now. You might want to get that checked.”

Sokka sputters and stammers for what feels like forever, and by the time he gets a handle on himself, she’s long gone and closed the door behind her. 

His face hadn’t been  _ that _ red, had it? Four minutes was the length of the entire interaction. Why was he flustered  _ before _ ?

It’s then he remembers what happened before he came into his office.

The rooftop. The Blue Spirit laughing. That weird, inexplicable thought he’d had about the Blue Spirit’s hair.

Sokka had only thought about three people’s hair like that before. One, his little sister’s friend she met at some summer camp for girls. Two, a very pretty girl that had nearly cut his throat open with a metal fan a very long time ago. Three, a boy at his college who he’d only ever spoken to once  _ (he’d ended up being a dick, but Sokka didn’t know that then). _

Or, well. Four people,  _ now _ , he supposes.

His stomach drops as he realizes what they all have in common.

Shit. He  _ can’t  _ have a crush on the Blue Spirit.

His sister is gonna be  _ pissed. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: @theleftdualdaosword


	2. zuko's not really sure how any of this happened, but he's not necessarily mad about it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara gives a shovel talk and Sokka decides, after not much forethought, to be unprofessional.

The Blue Spirit is standing right in front of Sokka, and the idea makes him a little giddy, because it means the Blue Spirit was _looking_ for him. _The Blue Spirit_ was _looking_ for _him._

He doesn’t even care that his face is definitely red. Not his problem anymore. 

The Blue Spirit’s mask doesn’t move, not ever, and the more Sokka talks to him, the more irritating it is.

God. He doesn’t even know who he has a crush on. This is complicated.

Sokka’s pretty sure it’s his turn to say something, because the Blue Spirit is staring in his general direction, and if Sokka thinks about it hard enough he almost looks expectant. He has no idea what they’re talking about, though, so he says, “Tell me who you are?”

It’s almost a running joke, at this point, but it still manages to catch the Blue Spirit off guard. “Huh? What? No, Sokka.”

“You can’t refuse to tell me who you are and then use my name in the same sentence,” Sokka says, “It’s just plain rude.”

The vigilante looks like he might try and disagree, just for a second, but then sighs. “Ok, fine. You’re right.”

“So you’ll tell me?”

“No,” the Blue Spirit says, “I won’t.”

Sokka groans, just to make the Blue Spirit feel bad, before changing the topic. “You said you knew who hired me.”

“I did,” says the Blue Spirit.

“Do you know _why_ she hired me?” Sokka asks, “She seems entirely capable of doing this all herself, if she wanted.”

The Blue Spirit’s mask does not change, though Sokka supposes it never will. “She is. But no, I don’t know why she hired you.”

“So we’re back to lying to each other, then?” Sokka holds a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt, “I thought we were past that.”

“I’m not lying,” the Blue Spirit says, “about that, anyway.”

Sokka hums thoughtfully. “I’m supposed to bring you in, you know,” he says, sounding more miserable about it than he probably should.

“I know.” Suddenly the Blue Spirit looks up to the sky, and asks, “What’s the time?”

Sokka wasn’t expecting that. “Uh, like, eleven?”

“ _Shit,_ ” is all the Blue Spirit says before he’s on top of the roof and running off into the night. 

___

It’s in the papers the next morning. _The Blue Spirit Attacks Warehouse Connected To The Fire Nation, Three Injured, Two Arrested._

Well, even if Sokka got ditched, at least two random gang members ended up in prison over it. 

_You didn’t get ditched,_ he reminds himself, _it wasn’t a date or anything. It was a nasty alley filled with trash._

He sets the newspaper back onto his desk and leans back a bit, panicking for a moment when he hears footsteps in the hallway. It can’t be Azula, because she refuses to knock on the door like a normal person.

The door opens to reveal Katara on the other side, looking a little ragged but otherwise happy to see him.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says, “Took forever to get off the train.”

Sokka accepts her hug, and pointedly doesn’t tell her that he’d forgotten about her visit entirely. “Don’t worry about it, just glad you made it.”

She gives him a glance up and down, “You’ve really committed to the job, hmm?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Sokka asks, playing dumb.

Katara tugs on the collar of his shirt, “You’re dressed straight out of a movie.”

“Can we stop bullying me for two minutes? You just got here, cut me some slack.”

His sister laughs at that, and takes a seat in one of the chairs he keeps around for clients. They haven’t been used lately, considering his only current client instead chooses to sit in _his_ chair.

“So? How’s work?” Sokka must take a moment too long to answer, because then she says, “Oh, no. What happened?”

“Ozai's daughter hired me.”

“And you _let her?”_ Katara asks, seemingly unable to believe it.

Sokka can’t believe he’s saying this, but, “She’s not that bad, honestly. It’s an easy enough job. I just have to bother that Blue Spirit vigilante until he’ll follow me into whatever trap she’s got cooked up.”

Sokka neglects to mention that the longer this whole thing goes on, the less he wants to hand over the Blue Spirit. He _also_ neglects to mention that most of his dreams recently involve pulling that stupid mask off and finding the hottest man alive behind it. Those are things his sister doesn’t need to know, _especially_ that last one.

Katara frowns. “That seems simple enough, I suppose. Though I don’t believe she’s ‘not that bad.’”

“I mean, she's weird, sure, and super scary, but once you look past the pointy nails and outfits she’s sort of just a person.”

“What’s the Blue Spirit like?” Katara asks, and as soon as Sokka feels his face heat up he knows he only has mere minutes until he’s caught. 

“Uh,” Sokka stammers, “He’s fine, I guess? Also kind of weird, and did threaten to kill me once or twice, but mostly just funny now that he and I are friends.”

Katara narrows her eyes at him, and Sokka winces as he keeps talking, “Does a lot of crazy jumping around and such. What’d you expect from a…” He gestures a little wildly, “Whatever he is.”

His sister stands and comes up two inches from his nose. Her eyes are searching for something, though Sokka isn’t sure what until she says, “Oh, _Sokka._ You’re an _idiot. Him?”_

Sokka nods, “Yeah. _Him._ ”

“You’re incapable of liking anyone normal, aren’t you?” 

“It’s the _worst.”_

Katara sighs, “Well, at least you can’t really get attached. Not like you can see his face.”

Sokka nods again, hoping she doesn’t notice his grimace. If he could avoid her making a big deal of this, his life would be a lot easier.

___

Katara taps her foot a little impatiently. Her brother is somewhere off getting them takeout, and she has only so long until he gets back and asks her what the hell she’s doing in an alley.

She doesn’t owe him an answer. _She’s_ not the one who has a crush on a vigilante with a secret identity. If Sokka weren’t an idiot with ridiculous taste, he might’ve settled down by now. But, alas, he _is_ an idiot with ridiculous taste, so here she is. Waiting in a slimy, smelly alley for someone who might kill her if she’s not careful.

Just as Katara’s ready to give up and head inside, someone slides down the fire escape ladder. Bingo.

The Blue Spirit turns around and freezes. 

“Hello,” Katara says.

“You’re not Sokka,” says the Blue Spirit.

Katara frowns. “You’re observant.”

The Blue Spirit stares at her silently for a long, long moment before asking, “Do I know you?”

“I’m Sokka’s sister?" She says, just a tad offended her brother never mentioned her. “Katara.”

“Nice to meet you,” the Blue Spirit nods. 

She waits before saying, “So I won’t be getting your name, then?”

“You really _are_ his sister.” Katara can hear the fondness in the Blue Spirit’s voice, and something about it makes her feel a little better. “Can I help you with something?”

Katara shrugs. “I’m mostly just here to figure out what you want from my brother.”

“I don’t want anything from your brother,” the Blue Spirit says too quickly. “He’s the one who keeps finding me.”

Katara doesn’t need to see the Blue Spirit’s face to know that he’s lying.

___

Zuko _is_ telling her truth.

At least, he thinks he is.

What could he want from her brother?

They’re just friends, and hardly even that. So what if Zuko thinks about Sokka more than he should? So what if the idea of his little sister doesn’t really matter to him, if it’s at least Sokka he gets to hang out with?

So what if he thinks about taking his mask off, just in case Sokka wants to kiss him?

Oh _._

_Oh no._

_No, no, no, no, no, no-_

___

“Glad you’ve caught up,” Katara says, “My brother doesn’t know, by the way.”

The Blue Spirit is standing completely still, breathing a little harder than he had been before, so Katara keeps talking. 

“All I’m saying is that if this is really something you want to do, you need to mean it. You need to stop with the mask and the secrets,” she says, “I know you two think you have some weird understanding, where telling each other lies doesn’t matter because you both know you’re doing it, but it’s not going to work out in the end, alright?”

The Blue Spirit runs a hand through his hair, gently bumping his mask. “How’d you know?”

Katara shrugs, “I’m a people person, I guess.”

“You sound like my sister.”

“I haven’t decided if that’s a compliment or not,” Katara says, eyes narrowed.

The Blue Spirit sighs. “Me neither.

No one says anything for a long time, until the Blue Spirit takes a deep breath. “How could you tell?”

“I know my brother,” Katara says, “He’s not particularly subtle.”

“No,” he replies, “How could you tell about _me?_ ”

Katara pauses. She uncrosses her arms, “I don’t know, honestly. You don’t seem like the type to let people bother you. You let my brother bother you. A _lot_ ,” she says, “Didn’t take much to figure it out after that.”

“Hm,” says the Blue Spirit. “Thank you, I guess.

Katara can only nod before he’s back on top of the roof and gone.

___

He’s in a bit of a tight spot, Zuko realizes, as soon as _more_ idiots in ill-fitting suits file out of the building. 

Most of them have cigars, too, as though they’re in some stupid cartoon.

At least they all _look_ like mobsters, otherwise, Zuko would really have no idea who’s trying to kill him now. 

A particularly short one spots him and Zuko doesn’t even have time to be annoyed before he’s back to running. He’s been doing that a lot, lately, he thinks. All of the warehouses he’s been hitting recently have _way_ more people than is standard.

The thought makes him a little excited. It means his father noticed him. It means his father is _worried_ about him.

Not in the way that Zuko had hoped for when he was little, no. His father thinks Zuko is a problem _worth dealing with._

He trips over some trash someone had left on the roof, and before he can catch his breath, the others are all scrambling up the fire escape. Zuko manages to knock a few of them to the ground with the sort of _crack_ that suggests they won’t be chasing after him anymore, but some make it onto the roof.

 _Great._

Zuko’s _late_ , too. He doesn’t have time for this. 

_At least it’ll make the news,_ Zuko thinks, _Sokka wouldn’t blame you for being busy if it was newsworthy._

Sokka most definitely would blame Zuko, but he decides not to dwell on it. 

Zuko still can’t think about the conversation he’d had with Katara. It makes his face heat up and sends him on a spiral he absolutely _can’t deal with right now, and holy shit, that guy almost hit me._

But, the mobsters brought fists to a sword fight. _(Or maybe Zuko brought a sword to a fistfight? Either way, he’s got the advantage.)_ It doesn’t take much to knock them off balance or send them reeling back as he reaches out to slash at them. There’s a reason he spends most of his time on roofs. One, two, three wrong steps back and someone’s going off the edge.

It is by that simple, simple benefit, that Zuko’s gone this whole time without _technically_ killing anybody.

Someone shouts down on the street, which is strange, because the only people down there are people who would call Zuko something much worse than _‘idiot.’_

___

Sokka can’t believe he has a crush on the most massive idiot on the planet. The Blue Spirit cornered himself on top of a building, like an idiot, and is _staying there,_ like an idiot.

So Sokka punches one of the mobsters in the gut and yells up to the Blue Spirit, “You’re an _IDIOT_ , get down here!”

The Blue Spirit looks around wildly until he spots Sokka waving his arms in the air, and Sokka thinks he might’ve yelled something back, but he can’t really hear it over the sound of someone else falling from the roof nearby.

Sokka should rethink how often he hangs out in high places, especially with a vigilante. Oh, well, too late.

More people are climbing up to the roof, Sokka notices, so he ducks into the alley with the fire escape and decides to take care of them. Some are too high up, and _Jesus Christ, they won’t stop falling back down_ , and Sokka starts fighting.

The Fire Nation needs to rethink some of the people they hire, he thinks. He’s winning four against one. Even Sokka knows he’s not _that good_ at fighting.

___

Zuko’s alone on the roof, now, which means that something’s stopping anybody from coming up. One glance over the edge tells him that yes, Sokka is kicking a lot of ass, and yes, looks _very_ attractive as he does it. _It’s the hair,_ he thinks and shakes his head to snap out of it before he drops down to assist. 

With two of them, it only takes a moment to send the last of them running off, and soon it’s just Sokka and Zuko in the alley, breathing heavily.

Sokka’s crouched low to the ground, “See if I ever do that again, honestly, that was _ridiculous._ ”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Zuko says, “I could’ve handled it.”

“Sure,” Sokka snorts, “There were like, fourteen of them. No way you could’ve taken them all.”

“In my defense,” Zuko says, “There’s usually only a few. I didn’t realize they’d increased security.”

“Whatever,” Sokka says, and holds an arm out.

After an embarrassing amount of time, Zuko realizes that Sokka wants help standing up. He hauls Sokka to his feet, and Sokka stumbles a little bit, falling right into Zuko’s chest.

___

_Hmm,_ Sokka thinks, _I can make this work._

He doesn’t knock the Blue Spirit over, but he _does_ take one second too long to right himself. Sokka’s ninety percent sure he hears the Blue Spirit’s breathing hitch.

_Nice._

Sokka stands up straight and dusts himself off. The Blue Spirit’s hair is a mess, Sokka notices, and he doesn’t really think to stop himself when he reaches up and tries to pat down the part that’s sticking up.

The Blue Spirit has sort of stopped breathing, so Sokka says, “You ok?”

“Uh,” the Blue Spirit’s voice sounds a little shaky, “Yeah?”

“Good,” says Sokka. 

The Blue Spirit takes a step back and starts on the fire escape ladder. “I have to go,” he says.

“Wait,” Sokka blurts a little too loudly. The Blue Spirit hooks his legs over one rung of the ladder and leans backward, so his face is at the same height as Sokka’s.

“Hmm?”

Sokka takes a deep breath. He can’t get nervous now. He’s known for being reckless and maybe a little stupid, it’s his brand. “I’m gonna try something,” he says, “Don’t hit me.”

The Blue Spirit doesn’t say anything as Sokka grabs the edges of the mask and pushes it down an inch or two. Just enough to see the Blue Spirit’s mouth. 

_Here goes nothing._

Sokka puts a hand on either side of the Blue Spirit’s head, leans in, and presses his lips firmly to the other’s.

___

_Oh,_ Zuko thinks. He’s not even mad about the mask. It is only his mouth, after all.

And it’s not like Sokka’s _looking_ at it, Zuko reasons, sticking his hand in Sokka’s hair. _He’s a little preoccupied._

Zuko’s never kissed anyone upside down before. His blood’s all rushing to his head, but that’s probably not why he feels a little faint.

___

“I don’t even know your name,” Sokka says, pulling away, though not by much. He can feel the Blue Spirit’s breath against his lips.

“I know yours,” the Blue Spirit whispers back, “That must count for something.”

“So you still won’t tell me?” Sokka says, “God, I don’t even know what you _look like._ ”

The Blue Spirit stops kissing him, “Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” Sokka replies, still firmly grabbing the sides of the Blue Spirit’s head. His hair _is_ soft. “I’ll admit, though, it’d be nice to have a name to a face. Or just a face in general, honestly.”

“We can’t all get what we want,” the Blue Spirit says, pressing his lips to Sokka’s again.

Sokka can’t really think straight, now that he tries. “I beg to differ. You’re kissing me right now, aren’t you?”

Sokka likes to think the Blue Spirit turns red under the mask. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @theleftdualdaosword


	3. azula learns that her brother exists to make her life difficult, and will continue to do so

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka gets answers, but not the ones he wants, and Azula commits a federal offense.

“If I close my eyes can you take the mask off?” Sokka asks, leaning closer into the Blue Spirit’s space. 

The Blue Spirit tilts his head, “Why? What do you even get from that?”

Sokka shrugs. He’s not really sure himself, honestly. “Is that a yes?”

“Hmm,” hums the Blue Spirit, and Sokka’s sure all he’s succeeded in doing is piss him off. “No.”

Sokka sighs dramatically, “Oh, whatever will I do?”

It’s been a week since the Incident, as Sokka had been calling it. They’re sitting on the edge of a building, which is a bit more precarious of a situation than Sokka would prefer, but he’ll take what he can get.

The Blue Spirit’s mask has slipped up to his nose, and it takes all of Sokka’s willpower to keep him from pulling it off entirely. The Blue Spirit doesn’t say anything for a few moments until suddenly there’s a gloved hand over Sokka’s eyes and a kiss being pressed to his lips.

Sokka keeps his promises, so he closes his eyes anyway. 

It’s not all _that_ different, though Sokka can’t say he misses the edges of the mask pressing into his face. Sokka _does_ like being able to actually feel the Blue Spirit’s face when he grabs it and being able to stick his fingers in the other man’s hair without tangling them in the ties of the mask.

By the time the Blue Spirit finally takes his hand off Sokka’s eyes the mask is back in place. “Was that good enough?”

“Honestly?” Sokka says, grinning just a bit, “Better than expected.”

___

Katara takes a long sip of her tea and stares straight ahead. The bell on the door rings, and when she turns she can see her brother marching across the café. His face looks nonchalant in the kind of way where Katara can tell he’s faking it.

“Hello,” he says, dropping into the chair across from her. “Sorry I’m late, long night.”

Katara raises an eyebrow, “You’ve been busy lately. I’m only in town for so long, you know.”

“I can’t really take time off, ‘Tara,” he leans back in his seat. “Kind of have to take whatever job I can get.”

“That’s why you spend so much time running after him, then?” Sokka freezes, and Katara knows she’s got him. “So you know his name now that you’ve started kissing in that nasty alley, right?”

“Roof.”

“Hmm?”

“Mostly on the roof.” 

The silence that follows afterward tells Katara everything she needs to know. “He still won’t tell you his name?! And you’re _involved?!”_

“Oh, don’t say it like _that,_ ” Sokka grimaces, “Makes it sound _illicit.”_

Katara can’t believe she’s related to the worst person ever. Well, Sokka isn’t the worst person ever, he’s just got the worst _taste_ ever.

And, god, _that’s_ not even true, is it? Yue and Suki were both nice enough. Though there was that boy from his college Katara never got along with. Still, two out of three isn’t bad.

So, alright. Katara’s related to an idiot, then. No one can deny that Sokka is quite possibly the stupidest person ever. “You’re the stupidest person ever,” she tells him.

“So you’ve said,” Sokka says, reaching across the table and stealing Katara’s tea right from under her. “Look, it’s not like I’m fine not knowing his name or anything, the whole mysterious shtick is getting kind of old, but there’s not a lot I can do.”

___

_That’s a lie,_ Sokka hears his own voice say in his head. _The ‘whole mysterious shtick’ is actually pretty attractive._

Katara doesn’t need to know that.

___

“You're literally a detective,” Katara says.

Sokka doesn’t look impressed. “It's not that simple.”

“What do you even know about this guy?” Katara asks. “Because _I_ could count on _one hand_ everything I know about him.”

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” Sokka says, “Because I kind of feel like that’s where this is headed.”

Katara pauses. That’s not what she wanted. “No,” she starts, slowly, “I just think you should be more careful, and maybe figure out this guy’s name or _something._ ”

Sokka gives her a sad-looking frown. “I’m working on it, just trust me on this, alright?”

___

_He needs a new office chair,_ Azula thinks, sticking her cigarette between her teeth. She’s in Sokka’s office again, leaning back with her feet propped up, etc., etc.

It’s become a pattern. She waits in his office, he comes back, pretends to not mind, she asks a few questions and answers none of his (not that he answers hers, anymore), and then she leaves.

Azula’s not sure that she likes the pattern. But Sokka’s funny, at least, and she can keep an eye on her brother if she pays close enough attention to the detective.

The office door opens, and if Sokka is upset to see her in his office he doesn’t show it. “Didn’t think you’d come by tonight,” he says, “You’ve been visiting more. What’s wrong?”

And god, he actually looks _concerned._

Or, maybe not.

He looks a little soft around the eyes. Seems a little happier. Like he got back from a date.

That can’t be right. He was out with the Blue Spirit. Azula made sure.

_Wait just one minute._

Sokka looks like he’s not all there. Like he’s thinking about something else, and he’s _much_ more interested in that.

Azula’s going to _kill_ her brother.

She can’t even remember what she had come for. She gets up and pokes him square in the chest, eyes narrowed. “You’re an idiot, do you know that?”

“Are you referencing anything specific?” 

“The little brat _wouldn’t._ ”

“Wouldn’t _what,_ Azula?” Sokka asks, sounding more and more confused by the second.

“And _you,”_ Azula grabs him by the collar. She’s aware she seems sort of crazy at the moment, but can’t really find it in herself to care. “With _him?”_

Sokka’s eyes widen for a moment, as though he realizes what she’s talking about, but it’s quickly replaced with another confused expression, albeit definitely fake. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he deadpans, and even Azula has to admit it’s quite convincing. 

“Right,” Azula says, “This is why I don’t have any friends,” she adds, mostly just to remind herself.

Sokka feigns offense, “And here I thought you were beginning to like me.”

Azula stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray before giving Sokka one more devastating glare and storming out of his office.

___

“My boss knows about us,” Sokka says before Zuko can even get a word out.

“Your boss?” Zuko cocks his head. He thought Sokka was a _private_ investigator. Did what he wanted, whenever he wanted. 

“The woman who hired me,” Sokka seems impatient. “Hired me to _bring you in._ Ring a bell?”

Oh. 

Well. That’s not good.

Zuko says as much, “That’s, uh. That’s not good.”

“No,” Sokka says, clearly exasperated, “It’s not.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What am _I_ going to do? Listen, I know you won’t tell me _how,_ but you know this lady. This is your problem, too,” Sokka crosses his arms, “Is she going to send someone else? Do we have to dodge another investigator, who you won’t be able to flirt your way into avoiding?”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Zuko says, scrunching his nose behind his mask. Sokka gives him an unimpressed look, so Zuko adds, “If it makes you feel any better she’ll probably just come after me herself.”

“Why would that make me feel better?” Sokka mumbles before whirling back around to point an accusatory finger at Zuko. “And that’s _exactly_ what I mean! How do you know that’s what she’ll do? There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Zuko grabs Sokka’s hand and moves it away from his face. “There’s a lot I’m not telling you. Be more specific.”

Sokka groans (and maybe says something that sounds a lot like _‘motherfucker’)._ “That’s the problem. You know almost everything there is to know about me, and I don’t even get to know your _name?_ You’ve met my sister!”

Zuko doesn’t think that Sokka will handle the news of _‘You’ve met my sister too’_ very well, so he decides to dodge the question. “How did you know I met your sister?” 

It’s a fair question. Zuko had never mentioned it to Sokka, and if Zuko was right about Katara, she probably wouldn’t have gone and told him herself.

“Do you two think I’m an idiot? My sister _lives_ to interfere. Of course you’ve met her!”

Zuko doesn’t get a chance to defend himself before Sokka’s ranting again.

“I don’t get why _you_ get to have all the secrets! What’s so special about you that I can’t see your face? It’s only ever been the two of us up here, _what_ are you so afraid of?”

There isn’t an answer to _that_ question, Zuko realizes. At first, it really was necessary, Sokka had been sent by his _sister_ of all people, keeping his face hidden made sense. But now, weeks later, Zuko wasn’t stupid enough to think that Sokka would ever turn him in. 

“I’m not afraid of anything, alright?” Which isn’t strictly true, but Zuko doesn’t particularly care. “But _no one-”_

“Why can no one know?” Sokka asks, “If _she_ already knows, then the entire Fire Nation knows by now. What’s so scary about who you are?”

___

Sokka would rather die than admit his sister was right about something. It comes with being the eldest sibling or just having siblings in general, honestly. He’s always meant to know better than her, and if it doesn’t shake out that way, it’s a moral failing.

He knows that’s not _necessarily_ how his sister or really anyone else would see it, but try as he might, Sokka’s pride is important to him.

Not to mention, that he really, _really,_ didn’t want her to be right about this. He didn’t want her to be right about the Blue Spirit. 

The Blue Spirit hasn’t said anything, so Sokka says, “They _all_ have to know by now, why is it so wrong if you tell me, too?”

___

That’s another thing Sokka can’t know. Azula wouldn’t have told their father Zuko was alive. She’d have to tell their father that he’d done something _wrong._ Azula watched what happened to Zuko when he’d tried _that,_ she wasn’t stupid enough to try it again.

Zuko thinks about telling Sokka he's got some crazy scar. It’s not really a lie, but Zuko likes to think he knows Sokka well enough by now that he can tell the other man won’t buy it. That, or he just won’t care.

“I thought you and I were friends at _least,”_ Sokka says, sounding resigned. “Look, I’m going home, okay? Maybe don’t wait up for me tomorrow. I need to think about some stuff.”

___

Sokka waits for one second, almost too long, desperately hoping that maybe the Blue Spirit will change his mind, or do _something_ , because if he’s being honest, Sokka really doesn’t want to walk away right now.

Walking away is admitting defeat. Walking away is saying that he’s giving up. 

___

Zuko’s tempted to drop the mask then and there if just to make the disappointed look on Sokka’s face go away, but the other man is already disappearing over the edge of the building. 

___

Sokka doesn’t even get a chance to sigh and collapse into his chair, because, of _fucking_ course, Azula is there waiting for him. 

“Can’t you knock, just once?” Sokka says, “I’ve had kind of a shit night, can it wait until tomorrow?”

Azula sort of looks like a mess, now that Sokka is really looking at her. There are three cigarettes in the ashtray, and one in her mouth. Her feet aren’t propped up like normal, and instead, she’s leaning forward in the chair, elbows on her knees.

Her hair is down, and for some reason, that’s what really makes Sokka nervous.

“I still can’t believe you,” Azula says, “I figured there was a chance you’d stab me in the back, there always is, with situations like this, but you’ve really gone too far.”

“Azula,” Sokka tries to sound reassuring. “Are you alright?”

“But it’s not even _you_ that I’m mad at!” She’s laughing now, maybe a little hysterically, “I can’t believe that _little shit_ managed to fuck everything even more. All he’s ever done is make my life difficult, _and_ he’s ruined things for you, too!”

Sokka would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a bit touched by that last bit. “I don’t really know what to tell you.”

“Of course it would be him. I’m associated with the man who went and got _fucking involved_ with the _detective_ sent to _turn him in!_ He’s stupid, but not stupid enough to think I _wasn’t_ planning to get rid of him.”

Maybe this whole issue Azula has with the Blue Spirit is even more personal than Sokka had thought. _(And god, why did everyone have to keep saying they’re ‘involved?’)_

Azula is mumbling something, and Sokka can see some sort of realization cross her face before she points at him again, looking crazier than ever, and says, “ _Don’t_ break his heart. Don’t even _think_ about it.”

Sokka is officially lost. “Ok, I don’t know what I’ve gotten caught up in here, but I have a feeling now might be a good time to back out,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound too nervous. “I’m, uh. I’m quitting, Azula. Hire someone else.”

He doesn’t think for a second it’ll work. She wouldn’t have let him under normal circumstances, and definitely won’t during whatever breakdown he’s witnessing.

“Oh, shut up for _two seconds_ , would you?” Azula growls before standing up and marching across the room. Sokka doesn’t think to move until she’s hitting his neck in some random spots, and the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @theleftdualdaosword


	4. katara decides that her brother's love life is more complicated than she has the energy to deal with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka spends some time tied to a chair and Zuko remembers why he doesn't like his little sister.

Zuko knows that Sokka told him not to wait up for him. Zuko knows that Sokka said he needed to _‘think about some stuff.’_ Zuko knows it's _definitely_ his fault, and that he should _maybe_ leave Sokka alone as a result.

But something feels off.

Breaking into Sokka’s office seems like something Azula might do, but Zuko needs to make sure that Sokka’s ok.

He’d even be fine if Sokka kicked him out or something, as long as he was alright. 

Zuko feels just a little bit vindicated when he notices Sokka’s office is empty after shutting the window behind him. He’d never actually been inside before, just hung around the building and the one next door.

Nothing looks particularly out of place, aside from maybe a paper that fluttered off the table when Zuko opened the window. He nearly jumps out of his skin when the doorknob rattles and is eventually pushed open.

Katara closes the door behind her and freezes when she makes eye contact with Zuko.

It takes him a minute to realize what’s wrong. 

Oh. 

Yeah.

He’d taken the mask off to get through the window. 

“Um,” he says dumbly.

The corner of Katara’s mouth twitches up. “You’re looking for him, too? He was supposed to call me yesterday.”

Fine, then. Neither of them will mention it.

She scans the room again, before whirling her head around to look at something on the desk,

There are cigarettes in the ashtray. Zuko’d know that brand anywhere. All gold and fancy labels in glittering French.

“Azula,” Zuko says, and Katara looks back up at him, determined.

“Azula.”

___

She’d go get her brother herself if she knew anything about Azula. The Blue Spirit, though, who is actually quite handsome now that she can see him, he probably knows. She asks him as much, “Can you get him?”

“Maybe,” the Blue Spirit says, “I can guess where he is, at least. Whether or not I’ll win the fight is the question.”

Katara nods. “Alright, well, don’t lose, then.”

The Blue Spirit snorts, “I’ll do my best.”

Katara feels calmer about this than she probably should, but it’s not like her brother _can’t_ handle himself, and she can tell the Blue Spirit is worried just by looking at him.

The Blue Spirit makes for the door, and Katara takes enough of a step forward to stop him.

“Promise me you’ll tell him and everything after?” Katara says, and she hopes it’s clear that it’s not really a request.

“Promise,” says the Blue Spirit.

“Good,” she says. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re his type.”

The Blue Spirit looks like he doesn’t quite know what to say to that, and he also looks like he could spend an hour standing there thinking about it, so she shoves him toward the door

___

“Shit,” is the first thing Sokka says when he wakes up, even if his ears are ringing loud enough so that he can’t really hear it.

His vision clears enough to make out the shape of a disheveled Azula, pacing in front of him. 

She glances up at him for a second, “Oh, good. I didn’t kill you.”

“How long was I out?” 

Sokka knows that she’s the one who’s knocked him out and tied him up _(and oh, god, is he tied to a chair?)_ and probably created some sinister plan to dispose of him, but he’s honestly not that bothered by any of it. At the very least he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not to turn in his maybe-boyfriend-maybe-ex- _they-hadn’t-really-talked-about-it_ to her.

Azula shrugs, “It's the middle of the night, so like, a day. Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sokka says, “Maybe because you’ve tied me to a chair and hidden me away in some warehouse, _you know_ , like a crazy person?”

Whatever daze Azula had pulled herself out of to answer his question took over again, and she began pacing again. “ _You_ . You _must’ve_ figured out who he was. There’s no way you would’ve done… _anything_ with him otherwise.”

Sokka _really_ wishes everyone would just drop it already.

“I really didn’t know.”

Azula rolls her eyes, brushing her hair out of her face. “We’ve been lying to each other since the beginning. Just be quiet and let me figure it out without your nagging.”

“I see why you would think that,” Sokka admits, “But for once I’m telling you the truth.”

Azula narrows her eyes, evidently searching for something, and Sokka thinks she’s found it when she starts laughing hysterically. “Holy _shit,_ you are telling the truth! And you _kissed him anyway?”_

Sokka resists the urge to scream. He knows it was ill-advised, alright? Don’t need to rub it in.

“Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before,” Sokka snaps, “Now can you please let me out of this chair? I’d like to go home now.”

Azula doesn’t stop laughing for a very long time, much to Sokka’s dismay, and when she finally does, she says, “No. You’re not stupid. I don’t make friends with stupid people.”

“Aw,” Sokka says, “Touching. Except for the part where _friends don’t typically kidnap each other_ , Azula.”

___

Azula freezes.

She hadn’t. She hadn’t said _that,_ had she?

One look at Sokka’s smug grin tells her otherwise.

“You’re not my friend,” Azula says, well aware that she sounds like a child. “I’m _using_ you.”

“Considering that you’re, you know, _you,”_ Sokka gestures as well as he can with his hands tied behind him, “I think that sounds like friendship to me.”

 _I should knock him out again,_ Azula thinks, and almost does it, too, but decides that he will definitely win this argument if she does. _Still very tempting._

___

Sokka wonders where his sister is. Or, hell, where the Blue Spirit is.

He’s hungry, he’s tired, and even though he’s apparently _friends_ with the woman who’s kidnapped him, she’s still _crazy enough_ to kidnap him.

“What’s exactly your plan here?” Sokka asks, hoping to catch Azula off guard.

“What do you think? I’m trying to get your boyfriend here, duh,” Azula rolls her eyes again. Sokka sends out a prayer for whoever might’ve gotten stuck with her as a sister

She’s still facing him when there’s a metal grinding from above and the sound of something dropping onto the concrete. Azula grins.

Azula turns around slowly, and shifts just enough to the side that Sokka can see the Blue Spirit, evidently ready to fight her.

“Still with the mask, then?” Azula asks, cracking her knuckles.

“Shut up,” growls the Blue Spirit.

Sokka finds he’s still sort of mad about the fight from earlier, so he says, “Nice to see you too.”

The Blue Spirit moves like he’s going to tell Sokka to shut up as well, but manages to stop himself.

“I don’t want to fight you, Azula,” the Blue Spirit says, and _god, why did Sokka have to like the most dramatic asshole ever?_

“That’s unfortunate,” Azula crosses her arms, “I was sort of looking forward to this, Zuzu.”

Sokka can hardly focus on the fight that immediately breaks out in front of him because he’s sort of distracted by the realization that the Blue Spirit’s name _might_ be ‘Zuzu,’ which was _not_ a possibility Sokka had considered.

“Hang on,” Sokka says, fully aware that he’s being ignored by the both of them, “ _Please_ tell me your name isn’t Zuzu, I don’t think I’d be able to look past that.”

The Blue Spirit ( _maybe Zuzu?)_ doesn’t answer, but Azula stops trying to murder him long enough to laugh, “You know how to pick them, don’t you?”

“Can we stop talking like I’m not here?” Sokka tries again. He’s not much use to the Blue Spirit all tied up, and even if Azula is ( _apparently)_ his friend, she _did_ kidnap him and all that. It’s clear that she probably shouldn’t win this fight if Sokka wants to go home anytime soon. If Sokka’s good at one thing, it’s being distracting.

“Can you stop talking in general?” The Blue Spirit says, and Sokka resists the urge to call him something rude. “I’m sort of in the middle of rescuing you, here.”

Azula manages to get a punch in, which stops the Blue Spirit long enough for her to turn to Sokka, “I don’t know what you see in him.”

___

Zuko hasn’t seen his little sister in a year or two, and he’d like to think he’d grown out of petty fights in that time, but right here, in front of Sokka, he’s completely ready to kill her if it means she’ll _shut up._

_(He’s also not sure why she hasn’t said his name and ruined this whole thing, yet. He’ll think about that later.)_

Sokka’s not really helping, either, though Zuko supposes he can’t really blame him. The poor man’s tied to a chair. 

“So,” Sokka says as Zuko slides out of the way of his sister, “How do the two of you know each other?”

“Azula,” Zuko warns, because he knows that look on her face. He knows what she’s thinking.

“You mean he hasn’t told you?” 

“No,” Sokka shrugs, “He’s actually been quite insistent that he _can’t_. Kind of a shitty thing to do, don’t you think?”

Sokka has a point, Zuko knows. And he did promise Katara he’d tell Sokka everything after. But during is not _after,_ so Zuko says, “I don’t _have_ to rescue you, you know.” 

Sokka sticks his tongue out.

Azula gives Zuko a look that says _‘This one? Really?’_

___

Azula has to admit she likes Sokka, and under different circumstances, she’d be alright with him and Zuko.

But she _hired_ Sokka. He was supposed to do something for her, and instead, he _made out_ with her brother.

Azula doesn’t think it's entirely unreasonable that she’s feeling like getting some revenge.

“You mean you haven’t guessed yet?” Azula says, and she doesn’t need to see Zuko’s face to know that he’s very seriously considering killing her, right then and there, “Zuzu here is my dear, _dear_ brother.”

___

That’s not really what Sokka expected Azula to say.

“ _Azula,_ ” says the Blue Spirit.

“Is that why you won’t tell him? Because you’re related to _me?_ ” She sounds like she’s teasing, but Sokka can see that it’s a real question. 

Does Azula have a brother? If she did, _nobody_ had heard about him in years. Most people know who’s related to who by now, especially in those mob families. Sokka vaguely remembers hearing about _something_ in the news when he was younger. Some kid named Zuko died? _Maybe?_

It’s then that Sokka finally realizes that Zuko, heir to the Fire Nation ‘throne,’ did not die at the tender age of thirteen, like most people had thought. In fact, he’s been alive this entire time, and even worse, Sokka had _kissed_ him. _Several_ times. _Enthusiastically_.

“You _PRICK,”_ Sokka says loudly, and it’s at that particular moment that Azula hooks a hand underneath her brother’s _(her brother's!!!)_ mask and throws it to the side.

 _Oh, well,_ Sokka thinks, _at least he’s hot._

___

Zuko freezes, for just a second, before remembering he’s sort of in the middle of something. He takes his opportunity to knock Azula’s legs out from under her.

She’s still laughing, rather hysterically. 

“Does Father know it’s me?” Zuko asks.

Azula looks up at him, “No,” she says.

“Are you going to tell him?”

She really thinks about it, Zuko can tell, before saying, “No.”

Zuko supposes that’s as good as he’s going to get. “Will you leave me alone now?”

“No promises,” she shrugs. Zuko thinks she might get up and start the fight again, god knows he’s not really stopping her, but Azula’s got one of those scheming faces on and Zuko doesn’t really want to deal with it right now. Let her scheme, if it means she’ll stop punching him for two seconds.

“That was all quite entertaining,” Sokka says, “But could someone _untie me already?”_

 _Oh, right. That,_ Zuko thinks as he fumbles with the knots on Sokka’s chair.

“Holy shit, Azula,” Zuko says, “What knot is this?”

“You’re an idiot if you think I actually remember Girl Scouts,” Azula replies easily, “I just sort of tangle things up.”

___

“Of course you do,” Sokka starts thinking out loud. It’s easier to say nonsense than to think about the fact that Azula is _Zuko’s sister._

Zuko’s _little sister._

_Isn’t she in charge of the mafia or something?_

“Can’t you go a little faster?” Sokka asks, hoping he doesn’t sound desperate.

“Working on it,” Zuko mumbles. 

Azula’s still laying on the floor, tossing a knife _(had she had that the entire time?)_ up and down as though it’s a bouncy ball. “I still can’t believe you kissed him.”

“You talking to me or him?” Sokka asks, “Because if you’re talking to me, I get it. If you’re talking to him, I’m devilishly handsome, so shut up.”

“Of course I’m talking to you,” Azula says, “You’re not the one running around with a mask and swords.”

Zuko chokes.

“He tried to kill me on our first date,” Sokka tells her, and Zuko chokes again.

“It wasn’t a _date,”_ Zuko mumbles again. 

“My sister gave him the shovel talk,” Sokka keeps talking, because there’s not much else to do.

_Hang on a minute._

“If Azula’s a mob boss, that means you are also one by association,” Sokka starts thinking out loud. “Which means that my sister gave a shovel talk to a _mob boss_.”

“Sokka-” Zuko says.

“ _I kissed_ a _mob boss_ ,” Sokka says. “Holy _shit._ ”

“He’s not a mob boss,” Azula crosses her arms and lets the knife fall an inch from her head. “Zuko’s been disowned. _I’m_ the mob boss.”

“Right,” Sokka says conversationally because nothing has made much sense today, and even though he’s upgraded to leg movement, his arms are still very much stuck to the chair.

“That means you _got_ the shovel talk from a mob boss,” Azula sounds positively delighted by the idea.

Zuko sticks his head up for a second, “You gave him the shovel talk?”

“She sort of did,” Sokka says, “She was kind of having a breakdown.”

“I had that breakdown in _confidence,”_ Azula hisses.

___

Zuko is actually surprised when Azula lets them go, but he tries not to let on in case Azula changes her mind. 

Sokka is acting like everything is fine, which, for some reason, is making Zuko more nervous.

Sure, Zuko had planned on telling Sokka after all this, but Sokka didn’t know that, so Zuko tells him, “I was going to tell you everything. Once I’d rescued you.”

“Hmm,” Sokka stops walking. They’re on some street Zuko doesn’t recognize, but Sokka seems to know where they’re going. “I presume the reveal in there wasn’t all you’d hoped for?”

“Not really, no,” Zuko says. “There was a bit less of my little sister in the version I’d thought up.”

“I can’t believe she’s your sister,” Sokka says, but doesn’t add anything else. It’s quiet for a long time.

Zuko figures he should just get it out of the way. “Are you still mad?”

Sokka shrugs. “A little.”

“Well, I’m sorry, really,” Zuko hopes he sounds sincere. “This whole thing is sort of why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Didn’t really work, did it?”

“No. It didn’t.”

___

Sokka _is_ still a bit upset, he isn’t lying about that, but it’s cold out, and he can’t feel his fingers and also he’s recently learned that his sort-of-boyfriend is actually _quite_ attractive, so he decides he’s willing to forget about it. For now.

Since he’s dramatic and petty, he says, “You going to kiss me or what?”

___

“Um,” is all Zuko can manage.

That was easier than anticipated. Zuko is suspicious, but also, he _does_ want to kiss Sokka.

Sokka rolls his eyes, and then there’s a hand on the back of Zuko’s neck and _damn, it had been only like, twenty-four hours, but he_ missed _this._

After a moment, Sokka pulls back and gives him a mildly amused look. “You’re useless.”

“I- Ok, yeah, sure, whatever,” Zuko says, because he knows he can’t really deny it.

___

Katara is sitting on the sofa in her brother’s office when the door opens.

The Blue Spirit had left maybe two hours ago, and as much as she figured he’d be able to handle it, she really was worried about Sokka.

The first person to come through the door is her brother himself, and trailing behind him is the Blue Spirit. Who isn’t wearing the mask, now that she looks. 

“Oh, uh,” Sokka sputters. He’s got one hand on the doorknob, and the other is busy holding the Blue Spirit’s.

“You forgot all about me, didn’t you?” says Katara, smirking just enough so that he knows she’s kidding.

The two of them look a little red, and while it could just be from the cold, Katara knows better. 

“No,” Sokka says too quickly.

Katara stands up, “I see you’ve worked things out?”

The Blue Spirit nods. 

“He’s a mob boss,” says Sokka, and the Blue Spirit facepalms.

Katara raises an eyebrow.

“How many times do I have to say it?” The Blue Spirit sounds resigned. “That’s my sister.”

“The sister you said I sound like?” Katara asks, and Sokka gives the Blue Spirit a very vindicated look.

“See! You _have_ met my sister.”

The Blue Spirit doesn’t respond but gives Sokka a fond look before turning to Katara. “That’s the one," he sighs.

“It’s also the sister _that kidnapped me,_ ” Sokka sing-songs. 

Katara couldn’t follow this conversation with a map and compass. “ _Azula_ is your sister?”

Sokka nods. “By the way,” he points at the Blue Spirit, “This is Zuko.”

“The dead one?” Katara says and is less surprised than she should be.

 _Zuko_ sighs, “I’m _not_ dead, but yes.”

Katara decides she’d like to think this all over, in her own hotel room, by herself, maybe with some alcohol. It’s the middle of the night. “Well.” She pushes past them to get through the door, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Sokka manages a weak nod before she steps out into the hallway.

___

“I should go, too,” Zuko says, once Sokka’s stopped laughing at the ridiculousness of that entire conversation with his sister.

Sokka grabs his hand again. “No way. We can stay here.”

“This is your office,” Zuko points out like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Sokka gestures to the couch his sister had been waiting on. “If you think I’ve never slept on that couch, you’re wrong.”

Zuko shrugs. “If you’re sure.”

Sokka glances over at the clock. 3am. “It’s way too fucking late- or, well, early, I guess- for us to go anywhere. I’m staying here tonight, you can too.”

Zuko smiles, “Alright, then.”

Sokka sleeps pretty damn well, all things considered, even if he’s stuck with a dress shirt for pajamas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you believe me if i told you this fic was going to be a oneshot?
> 
> tumblr: @theleftdualdaosword

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [unfortunately, a lot of people have the same shoe size](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170110) by [Waddles889](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waddles889/pseuds/Waddles889)




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